Eve of Destruction
by mike3121
Summary: War, both conventional and nuclear, was now breaking out all over the world. Added to that a life on earth ending Yellowstone Caldera about to blow. The SG1 team has faced many dangers and survived but could they survive this - the ultimate challenge.


**Eve of Destruction**

Category: TV Shows » Stargate: SG-1

Author: mike3121

Language: English, Rating: Rated: K+

Genre: Adventure

Published: 04-08-06, Updated: 04-08-06

Chapters: 1, Words: 13,304

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

Eve of Destruction

It began innocently enough. Little Heather was on a vacation with her parents to Yellowstone National Park. The vacation had been wonderful so far. Heather being of an inquisitive nature wondered from their picnic table. She heard a hissing sound and looked down to see some molten rock, or magma oozing from a small fissure in the ground. It was only a small amount so she poked it with a stick. In doing so she somehow managed to flick a small portion of it up into the air and landed on her right foot. She let out a howl of pain and went running to her parents, both of which were busy setting up a picnic. It was only a speck of magma and didn't cause the child any real harm.

The girl's sudden scream caught the ear of a nearby park ranger. Ranger Bob, as the kids called him. He was of average height and generally in good health and friendly nature. "Ranger Bob," or Robert Thornton had been with the park service for most of his life. He had joined the US Forest Service straight from his Gulf War tour. Ranger Bob never talked about his Gulf War experiences; for him it was brief but intense. We winched when he'd see a veteran with a sticker on his car or even the sight of camouflage clothing. For all those years he'd kept it all in; holding the horrors of the war deep in the recesses of his mind. His wife of many years never heard him speak of his experiences in the war. She knew that deep down he was emotionally scarred. Often at night he would toss and turn, then wake up screaming.

The girl's parents had put some burn ointment on the girl and she quieted down. Ranger Thornton casually went over and asked what caused the scream. The girl's father showed Ranger Thornton where the girl had gotten hurt. The Ranger had seen these before; small openings in the earth that would appear suddenly and emit a bit of magma or steam. Usually, they would only last a day or two. Lately, though he had noticed an increase in the number of such occurrences. The Park Service had an agreement with the U.S. Geological Survey to report any unusual geological events. Later, after he'd made his rounds, Ranger Thornton once again filled out another U.S. Geological Survey form.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away and high in the clear evening sky sat a rather bored Major Samantha Carter or Sam to her friends. She hated government meetings and would especially detest this one. Sam, a longtime member of the super-secret Stargate Command had a cover. She was supposed to be working on deep space telemetry at the secret Cheyenne Mountain Complex. During the cold war, it had housed NORAD or North American Air Defense Command. Now its primary mission was the Stargate.

To maintain her cover she would attend meetings and seminars that concerned deep space telemetry or DST. This meeting was to be an international gathering of DTS experts from all over the world. They were to convene in Washington D.C. Sam had to do a bit of study on DST before the meeting. At one such recent conference, her cover was jeopardized when someone mentioned an aspect of DST that Sam knew nothing about. She faked it as best she could but several people gave her skeptical looks.

At such meetings and seminars, she was often bored out of her skin and anxious to return to duty with her beloved SGC. At that moment SG1 was in stand down. Though as a determined and as a professional group as they were, even they needed some time off. Dodging staff weapons blasts, thwarting power-mad Goa'uld and saving the planet took its toll. Far away sat a geologist, he too was bored.

Dr. Gerald Fenton sat at his cluttered desk in the field office of the U.S. Geological Survey just North of Los Angeles. It was late and he was anxious to get some fresh evening air. Dr. Fenton was in many ways like Sam. His work was his life. Take him away from geology and he'd be lost. Even while watching TV he would look past the actors and notice some interesting shale formations. At 41 Dr. Fenton was tall and good-looking. He was in top physical condition, mostly from his constant field studies.

He had always been clumsy around the opposite sex. Though he could comprehend the most complex mathematical formulas he was at a loss to comprehend the female mind. He'd married once but it ended only a few years later in divorce. He brushed a wisp of dark brown hair from his face and picked up a piece of paper. It was another field report from park rangers in Yellowstone. The report showed a sudden rise in volcanic activity at the park. It wasn't at alarming levels but it was something that had to be watched. Dr. Fenton was an expert on what was now called Super Volcanoes.

Super Volcano's though rare in geological history, were created different from regular volcano's. A regular volcano is created when magma or molten rock would rise to the surface due to pressure deep within the earth and build a high volcano at its point of entry on the earth's surface. Sometimes it wasn't explosive at all. A lot of such activity was taking place deep within the oceans. Super Volcano's were different.

A Super Volcano is formed when magma forms in a vast pool just below the earth crust. The pressure would be enormous. Thousands of years of accumulated pressure would build then it would explode and the magma would be released. The chamber, now empty would collapse and create a depression or caldera. Not all Super Volcano's had the tell tail caldera though. The Yellowstone National Park was such a caldera. It was huge, the size of Rhode Island. Dr. Fenton had noticed a sudden rise in the land about Yellowstone. The whole park was beginning to bulge. Even some buildings were suffering structural damage from the shifting earth. This situation worried him greatly. His superiors weren't too alarmed and passed off his concerns like just the normal tectonic movements ever-present in the earth's surface.

With a nervous hand, he laid the report in the stack labeled, "ACTIVE." Also in that stack were reports from all over the world, particularly what was commonly called, "The Ring of Fire." These were the ever-shifting landmasses on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. Mt. Fuji was showing signs of life, venting steam. Mt. Rainier in Washington State and Mt. Hood in Oregon was showing signs of life as well. Most alarming were areas that were showing bulging. Massive pressure under the earth crust was causing significant bulging in a ten Kilometer square area near Bend Oregon. Also, Long, Lake California was bulging at an alarming rate. Now Yellowstone. Something was going on here, he thought.

Dr. Fenton was afraid to admit the obvious the earth was now entering another of its cycles of violent volcanic building. Geological events are measured in tens of thousands of years so mankind might have nothing to fear. If these dangerous areas were left alone perhaps nothing would come of it. Yellowstone though, he remembered was long overdue for another eruption. The huge Super Volcano eruptions come every 600,000 years. Yellowstone's last eruption was 650,000 years ago.

Dr. Fenton had a few friends high in the government. His hand reached for the phone then he hesitated. No, he decided, he wouldn't make the call; he needed more conclusive data.

Colonel O'Neill relaxed. Both he and Teals' were in a small rented fishing boat on a quiet lake in Minnesota. It didn't matter if they caught anything or not it was the chance to get away for a change. Tealc' was also relaxed.

"You know O'Neill, I could like this." He said while reaching for a cold beer from the cooler. Just then the Colonel saw a silvery speck with its pure white contrail illuminated by the setting sun. It was a commercial jet bound for whom knows where. It reminded him of poor Sam.

"I feel sorry for Sam stuck in some boring meeting about deep space telemetry. That'd put me to sleep just thinking about it." Tealc' suddenly slapped his muscular arm. "These annoying creatures you call mosquitoes have returned to attack us." He said with a sneer. Just then Colonel O'Neill slapped one that had landed on his right leg. "Time to head in," he stated and reached for the anchor. "Minnesota is known for its beautiful lakes." Then added as an aside, "and its mosquitoes."

Dr. Jackson yawned and stretched. He was in his small Spartan quarters at SGC pouring over the writings of some long-extinct civilization. Colonel O'Neill had graciously invited him to go fishing with him. He respected Colonel O'Neill but there was always this friction between them. He, like Sam, was dedicated to his work and a true vacation to him was in delving through musty old books or analyzing ancient texts. The world was at peace for a brief moment but that would soon change.

Sam was feeling a bit uncomfortable in her Class A uniform since she was usually in fatigues. Sam straightened herself up a bit and walked into the meeting. There were perhaps 100 attendee's; mostly civilians with a few sprinklings of uniforms. She chose a seat near the back, got a large coffee (to keep her awake) and opened her notebook. She put on that phony "I'm listening and alert face" she had learned to do while in college attending some required yet boring class. The seminar had proceeded at a slow boring pace when the whole building shook violently. It was so violent that everyone was thrown out of his or her seat. Due to the shock, the sound deadening ceiling tile had fallen on them. It was lightweight and more of annoyance and caused no real harm. Sam had some in her mouth and immediately spit it out.

On uneasy legs, they all stood and looked about. Sam muttered to herself, "An earthquake? Here? This is Washington D.C!" A man near her must have heard Sam's remarks and, with a thick German accent replied. "Ya is very strange." The lights flickered then went out. Some of the more important buildings had emergency generators but not this one. Sam joined the cue of dazed people and began filing out of the building in an orderly manner. She then joined the large crowd of mostly shocked people going down the stairs. Most everyone was quiet and orderly.

The main gathering point when evacuating the building was the parking lot. Sam was just as confused and bewildered as everyone else. A young Army Captain gave Sam a smart salute. She was a bit short and stocky, in her early 30's. Sam had seen her at previous meetings. "I can't believe this. An earthquake, here!" She said in shock. I've got a minor in geology and well, hey, this is a really rare event." Just then someone uttered a terrifying word – nuke! The man was listening to a small radio and turned up the volume for those around to hear.

The sound was scratchy but distinct enough for all those nearby to listen in. Four nuclear devices had been detonated. The largest, in New York City, had instantly incinerated millions. The accompanying radiation cloud was thankfully blowing out to sea. Another nuke in downtown Chicago had also killed millions as one in Seattle. Strangely one had been detonated in Yellowstone National Park. One man muttered it must have been a mistake or gone off prematurely while being transported. Why bomb Yellowstone?

Sam couldn't or didn't want to believe what she'd heard. Suddenly the sky was filling with helicopters and jets. Sirens were wailing all over town. Another man, also clutching a small radio said that the country of Erran, a recent member of the nuclear club, was claiming responsibility. Sam knew the military might of the U.S. Right now nuclear submarines were no doubt turning that middle-eastern country and its allies into powder.

Sam found herself shaking. A few of the people threw up. One woman went into hysterics; she was from Chicago and had lost her whole family. Most of those about Sam was knowledgeable enough to know that the prevailing wind would, within a few days, send the deadly nuclear cloud now over Chicago towards them. Back at the SGC Sam was an integral part of the operation. She often spoke to heads of states, even the president. Yet here, in Washington, she was an Air Force Major just one of many thousands in a virtual sea of ranking officers from all branches of service.

She stood there for two hours, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Finally, several large open U.S. Army trucks roared noisily into the parking lot. "Everybody into the trucks." Shouted a no-nonsense burly army sergeant in full battle gear. Even the grizzled sergeant had a look of fear in his eyes. Sam, as with her companions approached the truck. "Not you Ma'am. All military is to go into that truck." He said pointing to an idling 5-ton cargo truck. Sam noticed the .50 Cal was mounted on its ring and manned. A nervous young private was scanning the sky's looking for threats. "You are to help with the evacuation." The Sergeant said. Sam had no problem with that, she just wished she could get out of her Class A's and into fatigues. Everything was happening so fast she hadn't had time to think about the SGC or any of her companions.

Colonel O'Neill and Tealc' had just finished breakfast when their cabin shook violently and the roof to the front porch collapsed. They both dusted themselves off and looked about bewildered. "O'Neill, an earth tremor? Do they happen often in Minnesota?" Tealc' said. "Never! That was no earthquake." He said while picking up the phone and trying to dial out. As expected it was dead. They both went out to their rental car and turned on the radio. Most channels were off but be did manage to find two working emergency channels. Tears came to O'Neill's eyes when he heard the news. Millions, perhaps 15 to 20 had been killed outright. Many millions more were going to die a slow painful death from radiation poisoning. Both men were speechless.

Through the static on the radio, O'Neill heard a faint far off cry, "Help!" It came from the only other cabin on the lake. Someone was hurt. O'Neill turned on the ignition and with and Tealc' in the passenger seat they raced around the perimeter road that skirted the lake. Under normal conditions, it would have been an idyllic drive. The tall fur trees were lush and the woods were ablaze with a beautiful carpet of Wood Violets.

"LOOK OUT!" Tealc' screamed. A huge tree had fallen right across the road, blocking their path. "Looks like we hoof it from here," O'Neill said exiting the car. They both began to run towards the frantic screams.

"O'Neill is not that the road we need to escape." Tealc' said while running. "Yup that big honk'en tree's in our way." He said through gasps. They approached the small cabin and saw it had caved in from the center. A frantic middle-aged blond woman was standing with a small boy at her side. In the middle of the fallen timbers and remnants of the cabin was her husband. He was desperately trying to pull off a large beam that had fallen on his son. The two boys were twins and a small frail blond lad of 8 or nine was moaning in pain.

Tealc' and "O'Neill quickly sized up the situation and lifted the beam. The boy's father then pulled the lad to safety. O'Neill had treated countless wounded while on SG missions so this was a simple affair. The boy's leg was broken. While still in intense pain O'Neill set it. The lad fainted. In no time at all his leg was splinted up as best he could.

O'Neill, Tealc' and the couple sat on the dock and looked out across the placid mirror-like lake. Nothing much was said. O'Neill's mind was working. They needed to get the huge tree cleared away to get out of there. They all knew that the outside world was at that moment in turmoil and death. It felt as if the calm before the storm. Just then they heard the loud "wump, wump" of a helicopter. Not far was a clearing with picnic tables and a ball diamond. It was a tight squeeze but the helicopter, an Air Force MH-53, settled down into it.

The helicopter kept it's motor idling and blades spinning. Two men in flight suits emerged from the craft, and, ducking their heads, ran towards O'Neill and his companions.

"1Lt Hansen, USAF. Colonel O'Neill, I've been sent to escort you and your companion a Mr. Tealc' to an ANG wing at Twin Cities International. From there you will be transported to Nellis near Cheyenne Mountain." The young man had mispronounced Tealc's name but they let it pass. Colonel O'Neill then pointed to the distraught family. "Got a room for 4 more. Boy's got a nasty broken leg. He needs hospital treatment soon." Sorry, sir. My orders are for you and Mr. Tealc'. The young man replied curtly with a bit of authority in his voice.

Colonel O'Neill gave the young officer a nasty look and in a loud voice said, "Lieutenant I don't give a rat's ass about your orders. And since when does a Lieutenant outrank a full bird. Nuff said." Colonel O'Neill then motioned to the grateful family towards the waiting helicopter. The woman leaned over and quickly kissed Colonel on the cheek, "bless you," she said simply. Colonel O'Neill smiled in an embarrassed "awe shucks" manner. Within minutes the craft was airborne and flying low and at full speed over the beautiful green forest.

Dr. Jackson, deep within the solid granite of Cheyenne Mountain and surrounded with tons of structural steel, felt nothing. The SGC immediately went into full combat mode and lock-down. Dr. Jackson knew General Hammond was busy and avoided his office. As far as Dr. Jackson discerned it was of a national security matter and did not, for once, involve an alien incursion.

Just by listening in on some officer's conversations he found out just what had happened. The whole business appalled him. The US was now striking back at the perpetrator and its allies with overwhelming nuclear might. Strike after strike rendered a good portion of the Middle East a nuclear wasteland. The loss of life on both sides was staggering.

A full civil war had broken out in Europe. There were many millions of North African and Middle Eastern immigrants now living in European countries. Most were in some way members of a spreading religious/political movement the Religious Brotherhood. France, in particular, was in the most turmoil. Sweden had immediately surrendered its government to the Religious Brotherhood without any fight.

Dr. Jackson felt guilty for being safe and secure while others on the surface were suffering and dying by the tens of thousands even millions. He thought of Sam in far off Washington D.C. Washington was sure to be hit next. O'Neill and Tealc' were in a remote area and probably safe for now. Ah, but getting back would be almost impossible.

Everyone, right down to the cooks had a combat duty position to man encase of an emergency. Dr. Jackson's was in the gate room. He walked rather casually towards his duty station while squads of heavily armed soldiers ran too and fro. Nothing much was happening in the gate room. The duty officer told Dr. Jackson General Hammond ordered the off-world teams to stay put for now. Dr. Jackson pulled up a chair near a radio. It was turned to a channel that handled extremely sensitive information.

Major Carter tried to steady herself while the truck drove at a frantic pace through the crowded streets. It seemed on every corner there was a harried policeman with a fully automatic weapon at his side directing traffic. The noisy diesel smoke spewing 5 ton would approach an intersection and be quickly waved through. The truck was overcrowded with about 20 officers of all ranks and branches of service. They swayed in unison whenever the truck turned. If it weren't for the top bows to hold onto most of them would have been knocked off their feet by now. No one spoke for to do so they would have to scream above the wind and excessive truck noise. At last, the truck was on a straightaway.

Major Carter looked ahead to see the main gate of Joint Base Andrews. Blue lights were flashing everywhere. Even from a distance, she could see it was heavily guarded. Several large concrete abutments were in the center of the street to make any vehicle attacking the gate weave around them. On either side of the gate were two M1A1 Abrams tanks, their long gray/green deadly barrels leveled and pointing outward. Aircraft of all types were taking off one after another. The roar was deafening. Usually, a jet, to conserve fuel, would take off at a somewhat sharp angle. Now, however, the aircraft was going almost straight up in combat takeoff mode.

Their truck was quickly waved through. It made Major Carters nervous to see the automatic cannon of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle follow their truck through the gate. The speeding truck drove to a large hanger. There were no cordial greetings just a, "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, from an Air Force Lt. Colonel. Sam felt old memories of basic training at Lackland come to mind. The truck was quickly emptied and roared away on another mission.

The hanger and, judging from the noise inside, was full of officers. Immediately outside the hanger were several squads of heavily armed Air Police. They were very professional in their demeanor and not likely take much BS from anyone at that moment. The Lt. Colonel that had not so gently told them to get off the truck now positioned himself at the door, checking ID's. Sam approached him, presented her ID and expected to be waived through with the rest.

The Colonel, a tall ramrods straight Air Force professional looked at her uniform. "Major, you're a pilot?" He said looking at her pilot wings. "Yes but I haven't flown…" Major Carter began to say. He wasn't interested in hearing any story and told her to follow another officer. Sam now joined a group of 8 other pilots. Most were Air Force but 2 were Marine pilots. This small group was taken via bus to the flight line ready room.

Being so near the flight line the roar of jets was deafening. The room contained about 40 officers. Most were Air Force with a spattering of other services. There were even foreign pilots; several French, German and two Canadian.

A USAF Master Sergeant called the room to attention. Just then a rather youngish Lt. General in a flight suit approached the podium. He gave a quick synopsis of what had taken place so far. He explained he wasn't high up on the information feeding chain so theirs probably a lot more he didn't know. It was about what Sam had already heard - four nuclear strikes by the nation of Erran. The devices had been smuggled in via shipping containers and detonated while onboard ship. Los Angeles was also to be nuked but the Coast Guard and harbor police discovered the plot in time. A major shootout ensued with heavy loss of life. The nuke was recovered intact and stopped just minutes from detonation.

The General then got right to the point. "As we all know we're downwind from the Chicago blast. Right now, and perhaps for the next six to 10 days theirs a stagnant weather pattern over Chicago. People have to be evacuated from this area immediately. It's a daunting task but has to be done." The group was further broken up into fighter pilots and those with multi-engine experience. Major Carter held a multi-engine rating but hadn't flown for years.

A few officers protested voicing the same concerns Major Carter had. Their multi-engine skills were old and they didn't want to get anyone killed. The general would hear none of it. "Millions of people are dying out there. Millions more will die if we don't evacuate them. I don't have a lot of options." The General said, his voice rising in anger. "Hell, right now we got Crew Chiefs or almost anyone that's even looked at a Herc instrument panel flying co-pilot. Suit up and fly. You'll be flying non-stop with very little sleep." At that moment an aid came running in and whispered something in his ear. "Got to run. You're all under the control of the Flight Operations Officer now."

Major Carter was quickly directed to a locker room where she found a large pile of women's USAF flight suits neatly stacked on one table. Major Carter was glad that someone had the foresight to scrounge some uniforms up. She quickly changed and ignored the other female pilots suiting up around her. There just wasn't any time for even a friendly smile.

While still zippering up her uniform she went into pre-flight. Usually, it was an elaborate affair with weather information, vectors, alternate bases and such. This was as you might say, "down and dirty." A middle-aged Master Sergeant was assigned as her co-pilot, MSG Jason Ritter. He was a pleasant sort of fellow, thinning dark brown hair turning gray in streaks, with a round "could get fat if he didn't watch it" sort of body. He was no desk jockey though as Sam noticed Master Jump Wings on his uniform – a "Master Blaster" as they were called." He told her he was the chief aviation mechanic for C-5's and hadn't been around C-130's for several years. Major Carter's reply didn't increase his confidence when she stated, "Neither had she."

Major Carter soon found herself seated in a gray/green C-130 looking over the plastic laminated pre-flight checklist. "Major, could you lower the ramp." A young airman said sticking his head into the cockpit. Major Carter went into a momentary panic looking for the right controls. Her co-pilot, MSG Ritter pointed them out to her. Soon the aircraft was filling with terrified women and children. The plan called for the evacuation of the bases dependents first. It was just a matter of expediency. The base dependents were close at hand. Eventually, they would be hauling out the general population.

During the pre-flight briefing, Major Carter heard one officer telling another that no pets, convicts, terminal patients, or anyone over the age of 70 would be evacuated. Authorities were to put to death, in a humane way as possible, anyone left behind. Rather die quickly than a slow horrible death from radiation poisoning where your skin begins to fall off and you bleed from every pour, even your eyes. This had to be done. There were no other options. Major Carter felt sorry for the various police and military that had to decide, and decide quickly, who was to live and who was to die.

The flight plan was for them to fly refugees out to various Midwest airfields. Some were commercial and a few just dirt fields. The old Hercules C-130's were made for that type of primitive landing and takeoff. This would be no picnic though.

Major Carter's C-130 joined the long line of aircraft waiting for takeoff clearance. At last, she heard, "WHISKY NINER THREE ZERO, CLEARED FOR TAKEOFF ON RUNWAY SEVEN ALPHA." Major Carter replied, "ROGER THAT, SEVEN ALPHA." She then lined up and watched the C-130 in front of her slowly rise into the air. After it had cleared the base it dipped low. Major Carter was already on her takeoff roll when a frantic voice cried out. "THIS IS JULIET TWO SIX, I"VE LOST ALL POWER. MAYDAY MAY…" Just then there was a huge explosion. The heavily laden and fully fueled C-130 crashed into a subdivision just short of the base. Major Carter seeing what had just happened was about to cut her engines and stand on her brakes to abort the takeoff.

Just then a broken voice from the tower said, "WHISKY NINER THREE ZERO. DO NOT, I SAY AGAIN, DO NOT ABORT TAKEOFF." Under normal circumstances when a plane crashes all takeoffs and landing is either canceled or diverted. These were extraordinary time so Major Carter had to fly through the billowing black cloud now marking the location where surely hundreds of people had died instantly. Her copilot MSG Ritter looked down. "Oh God!" he mumbled. Major Carter heard him and added her own, "Oh God!" as well.

At that moment General Hammond was a very busy man. Due to his position, he was privy to information concerning the unfolding worldwide cataclysm. It seemed the whole world was now in turmoil. The western portion of Europe or as some now called it "Old Europe" was in full-scale warfare. Tens of thousands of heavily armed Religious Brotherhood Holy warriors were fully engaging the police and army.

Perhaps due to massive debt and always under the thumb of the U.S. many South American countries were siding with the Religious Brotherhood or declaring neutrality. China had taken this moment to attack Taiwan and was now threatening Japan as well since the U.S. was now fully engaged elsewhere. General Hammond slumped into his chair and sighed. He was never one for profanity but uttered under his breath, "What a fuck'en mess!" Little did he know that events were to get much worse.

Dr. Fenton was just as shocked by the turn of events as anyone else. He was, naturally saddened by the massive loss of life. However, the nuke that went off in Yellowstone bothered him the most. Maybe it was a mistake as several government experts had said. Dr. Fenton was one of the few that thought perhaps the Yellowstone nuke was deliberate. He immediately phoned anyone above him on the chain of command. No one would listen; they were all caught up in the unfolding events and didn't want to even consider the unthinkable.

Hours later Dr. Fenton sat at his desk, said a short prayer, and phoned the last contact he had. He phoned an old school chum from his undergrad days at Brigham Young. They hadn't talked for years. Dr. Fenton remembered reading in a geological trade magazine his old friend, Dr. Jamison, was now appointed as a government consultant to FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Administration).

Dr. Fenton was amazed his call came went through as Dr. Jamison's office was in Washington DC. There was fear in his voice when he said the customary "Hello." Everyone in the downwind area of DC was in a mad panic to evacuate. The two men cut the small talk and Dr. Fenton explained his concerns. Dr. Jamison, though in a highly agitated state packing his notes and such listened patiently. He replied the whole machinery of government was to relocate to the south, to Ft. Knox Kentucky. Once Dr. Jamison was relocated he would call him back.

Just then the men's conversation was interrupted. Dr. Fenton heard a young man speaking in the background on the other end of the line. "Doctor, the trucks are ready to go. You're the last out," Suddenly the line went dead. Dr. Fenton was in despair. Just then his supervisor came into the room. His boss Dr. Samuel Wilson though as a professional geologist as the rest was also a bureaucratic climber.

Dr. Wilson related that "he" had informed his superiors of his fears concerning the Super Volcano in Yellowstone. Dr. Fenton would now be sent on a dangerous fact-finding survey of the devastated area. Dr. Fenton was livid. For years he had been pestering anyone in his department of the dangers now his boss claimed the credit. This was no time to play ego games so he accepted the assignment without a word of protest.

Dr. Fenton wasting no time assembled his team. He would take two assistants. Both were young. Gloria Turner, she was a pretty blond coed on a work-study program from UCLA. Though pretty and had that cheerleader look she was no dumb blond. Mr. Jeffery Jumabo was an exchange student from Nigeria Africa. His college education wasn't very good but more than made up for it with a quick inquisitive mind. Jeffery was always very formal and polite often coming to work in trim and dignified suites.

Dr. Fenton made sure to oversee the packing of the gray government van. Three radiation suits, not normally carried on field studies were packed. Also, he signed for three pistols and a rifle. This was common practice, as field people would encounter rattlesnakes. At the moment though it was the two-legged creatures he feared the most. Now with the world in violent turmoil he felt weapons of some sort would be a necessary addition. Another vehicle a huge flatbed truck pulled up. On the bed and chained down was a tractor-like vehicle. It was their R.E.V. or Remote Evaluation Vehicle. The radio-controlled vehicle could he guided into radioactive areas, where a human even with a radiation suit could not go.

At last their small convoy hit the road. While driving through the city Dr. Fenton and his assistants could see the fear in everyone's eyes. By sheer luck, Los Angles had avoided being incinerated. Just before they'd left Dr. Fenton watched on TV as an embedded American reporter accompanying a French armored unit mention that France has perhaps 350 nuclear weapons, as well as, several highly accurate ICBMs. That was a cold chilling thought.

It took a few days for Dr. Fenton to reach a good location to launch the R.E.V. It also took that long for Tealc' and Colonel O'Neill to reach the SGC at Cheyenne Mountain. General Hammond immediately dispatched them to the alternate off-world Alpha site. Concurrently the alternate Bravo, Charlie, and Delta sites were being developed as well.

General Hammond had discovered a Dr. Jamison of FEMA had conveyed disturbing news to the president. The nuke in Yellowstone was no mistake. A blast there could end up creating a Super Volcano. Massive amounts of volcanic ash would be spread all over the world. Over two-thirds of the earth's species would be extinct. The ash covering would pollute all of the oceans and freshwater supplies. This situation could last from 30 to 50 years. The whole North American continent would be devoid of all life. Perhaps far off locations like Australia and New Zealand might somehow survive but it was doubtful. The earth would also be plunged into total darkness and freezing cold for at least 5 years due to the volcanic ash covering.

General Hammond had the Stargate relocated to the surface. Convoys of heavily laden trucks were now roaring nonstop through the portal. At last, word had come from the Asgard. There was a strict no interference treaty worked out between the Goa'uld and the Asgard concerning contested planets such as earth. They could not interfere in naturally occurring disasters or internal political troubles. However, the Asgard, with their superior technology had created several dozen Stargate's They were huge and willing to "loan" them to the U.S. This would be for "test" purposes only. Just then, as if things could not get any worse, a grim-faced aid came into the general's office. France had just fallen to the Religious Brotherhood.

Sam was exhausted from flying almost continually. When she landed it was like some Indianapolis 500 pit stop. The harried ground crew would quickly service her aircraft, load it with terrified refugees and off she'd go on another mission.

Meanwhile, Dr. Fenton's observations had proven correct. The massive deep crater caused by the detonation of the nuclear device was already filled with bubbling frothing red-hot magma. The whole area, some 80 square Kilometers in all was bulging and the magma was now flowing downward in streams. Dr. Fenton's instruments detected huge, almost un-measurable amounts of magma pressure deep in the earth crust thrusting upward. The usually trapped magma had found a weak point and was taking advantage of it. When it blew all hell would be let loose. An explosion like this was not heard on earth in 650,000 years. He explained to his terrified companions it would be like a combined explosion of 1,000 high yield nuclear bombs. All life within a thousand Kilometers of the blast would be instantly extinguished. Also, the blast would be so massive as to possibly alter the earth's orbit.

With trembling hands, Dr. Fenton radioed his findings to his supervisor. Little did Dr. Fenton know but the president and his staff, now relocated to a bunker below Ft. Knox, was waiting to hear from him.

The president, after hearing from the geologists, reached for the red phone. Colonel O'Neill was in General Hammond's office when the red phone rang. They exchanged nervous glances. "Yes, Mr. President." General Hammond said in an efficient respectful manner. The conversation was short and to the point. General Hammond replaced the phone on the receiver and looked at Colonel O'Neill. "Total evacuation. Everyone in the U.S. and our allies is to be evacuated to off-world sites." Colonel O'Neill was for once speechless. "You mean operation Dust Off." He stuttered.

Operation Dust Off was one of the hundreds of theoretical military options that the Pentagon was always brainstorming. No one felt it even remotely possible for it to be invoked. "Not possible," O'Neill said, stating the obvious. "Well Jack, we'll just have to do the best we can. We've got maybe a month, perhaps more perhaps less. The Asgard are loaning us some 35 huge Stargate's and over 50 of their large cargo ships are racing here to evacuate as many people as possible. Jack, you and Tealc' are to oversee operations at the Alpha site." Jack turned to leave and added, "Any word on Sam?" "No, nothing," the general replied, "my prayers are with her though." He stated glumly looking at his hands.

It had been two weeks and the weather pattern had held. To the surprise of everyone, the area directly downwind of Chicago had been pretty much evacuated. Now the next major evacuation commenced. Sam was shocked to hear about the massive explosion ticking away deep beneath the former Yellowstone National Park.

Sam, as well as, most of the general population had heard about the off-world evacuation. It was a bit too much for several people to comprehend. Here they were leading their normal lives and the government was telling them they'd have to evacuate to some strange planet and live in primitive conditions. Many people, even when confronted with all of the facts concerning the pending explosion preferred to stay. Government planners were pleased for they knew there was no way they could off-world support the full U.S. population along with Canada, Germany as well as other allies. It was estimated that less than half the U.S. population would choose to evacuate.

According to the media, order, and discipline was breaking down all over the country. Armed gangs of thugs now controlled vast areas of major cities. The Army and National Guard would sweep through an area the gangs would lay low then pop back up once the military was gone.

Sam had one more flight scheduled before the radiation cloud engulfed the area. At that moment the ground crew was busy refueling her craft. Exhausted both Sam and MSG Ritter were slumped against a pallet of MRE's. Sam closed her eyes to get a few moments of well-deserved sleep. Just then Sam noticed a policewoman approach. She was young, perhaps in her late 20's with light brown hair. Out of uniform, she was probably quite attractive.

She was part of the evacuation team. Most of the population had been evacuated and the evacuation teams themselves were now being pulled out. Sam managed a smile. The woman, in a tan uniform with badge and gun belt sat down next to her. She introduced herself as Gale Norton a prison guard.

They exchanged small talk. Then the woman, with a faraway look in her eye told Sam how she been busy executing prisoners. She and the other guards lined up the prisoners and had them kneel. Then they would walk up behind them and fire one shot into the back of their heads. Gale said she'd killed over a hundred in such a manner. Sam was speechless. She knew all sorts of dire measures were being used but to hear of it directly was shocking. Sam hugged the young woman. "You had to do it. There wasn't time to get everyone out. Do you know what radiation poisoning does to the human body? Believe me, you did them a favor." Sam started trying to console the young woman.

Gale then changed the subject. "Go'en back in?" she said. "Yes," Sam replied. "One last trip." "That's cutt'en it mighty close," Gale said looking out at the gray horizon. Sam knew this young woman was highly distraught and said, "Hey come with me. You could help with loading." Gale's eyes lit up. It was obvious she wanted to help in some way other than as an executioner. What with all of the evacuations and everything in disarray no one would care if Sam brought her along. Sam found her a flight suit and except for Gale's black leather pistol belt she looked downright regulation.

Minutes later the overused C-130 clawed its way into the gray evening sky and was pointed towards the DC area. Not long into the flight, the aircraft jerked hard. "Number two is acting up." MSG Ritter said looking out of the window. There was just no time to do any regularly scheduled maintenance. Their poor aircraft was being pushed to its limits. On they droned for an hour when the interior of the cabin was illuminated – number two had caught fire.

"Feather Number two," Sam shouted to MSG Ritter. The MSG complied and hit the fire extinguisher. Sam could feel the aircraft losing altitude. There was another shudder - Number one starboard was sputtering. The C-130 could fly on three engines but it would drop like a rock on just two. It was pitch black outside. Sam had to get her ship down fast.

Under normal circumstances, she'd be vectored to an emergency field but everything was in such a confused mess now. The radiation floating high above the earth was playing havoc with communications. Gale trying to keep her balance, staggered into the cockpit. "Strap yourself in girl we're go'en down." Gale's expression turned to one of terror, "OH SHIT!" she said loudly and turned around heading back to the cargo bay. There were two young airmen in the back. They had never experienced a crash before and fear shown in their eyes.

Sam was fighting hard to maintain control of the bucking aircraft. Down the C-130 went, gaining speed with every second. Sam immediately began to dump fuel but there just wasn't time. MSG Ritter looked out his window and called to Sam, "Got a flat field below us." "Just what I wanted to hear," Sam said and sounded the crash horn. MSG Ritter looked intently at the approaching ground, "them black spots. MY GOD!" He shouted. "They're tree stumps." Sam's eyes opened wide. A highway loomed ahead and another open field. She'd just missed the tree stump infested field. Perhaps the next field had tree stumps as well. It didn't matter now. There C-130 was going in.

They hit hard. There was a loud scraping scratching sound as the craft skidded across a freshly plowed field. There was one massive jerk then Sam's world went black.

After Dr. Fenton relayed his dire warnings he gathered his crew together for a serious discussion. The truck driver, a large rather heavyset man was furious when Dr. Fenton told him to leave the R.E.V. behind. Dr. Fenton tried to tell him it was useless now, saturated with deadly radiation. The driver, a freelance contract trucker was to get paid a bonus for a round trip with cargo intact. Dr. Fenton tried to talk to him but he drove off in a huff. His only concern was for money and nothing else.

Dr. Fenton and his two assistants got rooms at a small run-down motel located on a major highway. They stayed there for three days pondering their next move. On the third day, the president came on TV. He was all serious and explained with charts and graphs in as simple a manner as possible the pending explosion. Dr. Fenton and his companions' jaws dropped when he mentioned the off-world evacuations. He was downright un-believable and even showed pictures of the off-world sites. The Asgard, some strange alien race, with their superior technology was busy building whole cities on alien worlds for the evacuees to live in.

Next, a map of the United States was displayed with all of the evacuation sites marked. Dr. Fenton noticed two Stargates both located in Los Angles were the closest. Even on a good day, the LA traffic was a nightmare. No, the only alternative for him and his companions was the one located at Cheyenne Mountain. It was doable but they'd have to swing up north then double back down south due to the radiation cloud hovering over Yellowstone. It would be a long dangerous journey.

After the president's announcement, all order seemed to break down. Cars would race by the motel at fantastic speeds. One National Guard convoy came along and a Humvee pulled up. An officer, in full combat regalia, minced few words and told everyone civil order was breaking down and they should all leave immediately.

The people at the motel and adjoining diner seemed almost oblivious to there pending doom. Dr. Fenton tried to explain but they just didn't want to hear. Exasperated he used his government credit card to buy up all of the canned food they would sell him. Dr. Fenton told his companions they would set out early the next morning for Cheyenne Mountain.

The young African Jeffery Jumbo was thoughtful and said they best hide the van around back and not sleep in the rooms that night. The coed Gloria thought it a bit extreme but they agreed with Ed. There were some brush and a small stand of trees as well as an old abandoned bus to hide behind. Later in the night, they were awakened by screams and gunshots. Two cars in a squeal of rubber, drove off moments later.

Early the next morning Dr. Fenton and his companions found the bodies of the motel proprietor as well as the guests. They had been shot execution-style, 10 people in all. The motel safe was left open and the café's cash register lay in the street. "Fat lot money is going to do those murdering crooks," Dr. Fenton said looking over the carnage. "Shouldn't we call the police or something?" Gloria added. Jeffery shook his head and replied. "No, we must get as far away as possible. This is only the beginning. Things get bad, very bad."

Minutes later they were on the road. There seemed to be a general feeling of lawlessness about for several cars past them at very high speeds. One car with 4 young men slowed and looked them over. Jeffery had the presence of mind to show them his 30/06 rifle. That convinced the thugs to seek out easier pickings and they drove off.

Many clicks down the road they passed an old lady accompanied by what looked like 15 to 20 dogs. She was dressed in rags and had two small dogs in her rickety shopping cart. "This is not good," Jeffery said. Dr. Fenton pulled over to the side and Jeffery got out. The dogs were acting in an agitated manner and growled at Jeffery. "Lady you come with us," Jeffery said opening the van's sliding door. "What an leave my dogs? Go away!" She shouted then spit. "Lady those dogs. They get wild. Please, you come. Dogs will turn on you." The old woman stopped her cart and looked at Jeffery. Shading her eyes she replied. "Dem's my babies. They'd never hurt me." She said almost screaming. Jeffery looked about and spotted the leader of the pack. It was a huge black dog. The dog sensed Jeffery looking at him and began to growl. "Go away you're scar'en him." The old lady said waiving an old knurled cane at Jeffery.

The huge black dog drew closer and barred its teeth. Jeffery, just by looking at him, was challenging the leader of the pack. Jeffery lifted his 30/06 and fired one shot into the dog's head. The shot sent the dog flying a full meter into the air. The rest of the pack backed off for a moment. They smelled the blood of their fallen comrade and began to gather to feast on him. The old lady went into hysterics and called Jeffery every name in the book. At that moment Dr. Fenton spotted a vehicle on the distant horizon.

"We've got to go NOW!" He stated loudly. "Last chance lady," Jeffery said, re-entering the van. She was furious and hit the side of the van with her cane. "Murder, murder!" she screamed hysterically.

"What was that all about?" Dr. Fenton asked while driving off. "In Africa, we have many wild dogs and you learn at an early age how to handle them. Very dangerous, very dangerous. I killed the leader. It will give the old lady some time to get away – if she wants to getaway. Dogs will feed on dead one then have a huge fight for a new leader. After that, they will hunt down the old lady and eat her." Gloria upon hearing that said "ewwww gross."

Back at Stargate command, the evacuation was proceeding smoothly. The Asgard modified the gate to remain open continually. SGC's gate was set for the Alpha site with Tealc' and Colonel O'Neill in charge of the other end. Only a few people had shown up so far. That was fine with General Hammond for it allowed convoy after convoy of heavily laden trucks to pass to the Alpha site. The General had stationed several tough-looking and heavily armed Air Police near the gate. Anyone that slowed down to look or had last-minute misgivings was to be pulled out of line. No pets or anyone over 70 was not allowed but the General winked when he told the guards that. They didn't have time to check out the police record of anyone crossing over but General Hammond stated that families had priority. Anyone that looked the least bit gang like or hostile in any way would not be allowed to pass through. Every second counted.

So far the evacuation at all locations was proceeding better than expected. The Asgard had positioned several gates in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Poland, England, Ireland, and a few other countries. Since much of Europe was fully engaged in civil war gates were only placed in secure areas.

Meanwhile, the confrontation in Asia between the competing powers of China and Japan had reached a boiling point. Since Japan's military forces were weak and not deployed beyond there borders China had the advantage. Without warning, China completely incinerated Japan with a shower of nuclear-tipped ICBMs. Except for a few million that had previously escaped through an Asgard Stargate the beautiful and creative Japanese people were no more. The U.S. would have retaliated but the prevailing winds would carry the deadly radiation to the U.S. mainland. Also what mattered most was that the evacuations proceed as planned.

Slowly Major Carter regained consciousness. It was a bright clear morning and she found herself in an irrigation ditch. Out in the center of the field lay the charred remains of her C-130. Looking around she was pleased to see everyone had gotten out alive. Her head throbbed in pain. Except for a severe headache she was otherwise unscathed. MSG Ritter had a sprained ankle, the worst injury of the group.

One of the young airmen managed to escape the burning craft with an emergency survival kit. Except for that and Gale's service revolver they were unarmed and helpless. The group hadn't been aware of how bad the lawlessness had become. They assembled on the edge of the black asphalt two-lane highway and began to walk. Their emergency kit contained a compass and Sam, though not knowing exactly where they were, decided walking in a westerly direction would be the best course of action.

On they walked for hours with no sign of human habitation, just click after click of plowed fields on either side of the road. They did come across a highway sign but it was of no help. "East Humphrey 20 Miles" it read. "Where the hell was East Humphrey anyway?" MSG Ritter said wincing from the pain.

On their long journey, they noticed a farm off to the right. It had recently been burned down. The farmhouse was quite a distance from the road so they decided to pass it by. Suddenly three cars appeared on the horizon. They were traveling at a very quick pace and were on them too quickly. Loud throbbing rap music emitted from the vehicles when they slid to a stop. Gale reacted instinctively and pulled out her revolver, leveling it at the tough-looking youths piling out of the cars.

"Hey," one tall menacing lad stated while brazenly walking up to Major Carter. "Ain't she a pretty one." He said while eyeing her lecherously. "Not as pretty as that girl we raped and killed last night. She was nice." Another heavily tattooed youth added. There were then various hoots and hollers from the group. Gale stepped forward and cocked her revolver, aiming it at the head of the closest youth. "This statement has been used before but. Go ahead make my day." She said in a determined voice.

"Do it!" another lad stated with a laugh pulling out an AK 47 from the backseat of his car. Other youth then began to retrieve automatic weapons from their cars as well. For a brief moment, there was a standoff. It was obvious to Sam and her companions they would all die. She'd often envisioned her death but not like this, not now.

The youth had concentrated their attention on Sam and her companions and didn't see or hear an approaching military convoy until it was too late. The rear car, a black Camaro exploded in flames from a direct hit by a TOE missile. Another car was hit next and blew to pieces. The third tried to pull away but was riddled with machine-gun fire and rolled away completely engulfed in flames into a deep ditch.

The gangsters tried to fight back and a few managed to return fire but were cut down where they stood. A gang of untrained and undisciplined thugs was no threat to a heavily armed and well-trained military. Sam and the rest of her aircrew could only manage to hug the ground during the brief firefight.

"You can get up now." One of the soldiers stated while walking towards them. When the young man saw Sam's gold Majors leaves he saluted her. He then turned and saluted Gale. Sam had given Gale a flight suit with Captains bars and no one knew otherwise. Sam didn't know much about Gale but was to find out she was an active member of the Army Reserve as an enlisted M.P. Military customs were familiar to her and she properly returned her salute.

There were well over a dozen military vehicles. Mostly armored Humvee's, with a few Stryker's and one cargo truck. "Saw your plane back there." The Captain in charge of the convoy stated. He was tall and Sam figured him to be a nice-looking young man. She couldn't say since he was in full combat gear. They had a brief exchange of information. This was a National Guard unit tasked with protecting as many people as possible until the evacuation was complete. The Captain was saddened that so many good people were elected to stay behind. They had another two weeks of patrolling then they were to gather there own dependents and head towards the nearest Stargate in southern Canada. Sam and her companions were welcome to come along.

That had been the best option Sam had heard in a while and eagerly climbed aboard the cargo truck. She needed to get to Stargate Command however that prospect looked pretty dim at the moment.

After a few boring hours bouncing around in the back of the cargo truck, they were waived through the front gate of the National Guard compound. The compound was located in a medium-sized Midwestern city. The city had once a beautiful place now, however, it was strewn with rubbish and broken storefront glass all over the streets. Most, if not all, of the buildings, had been looted and stood dark and foreboding. Sam noticed bodies of civilians lay just outside the gate. One was hanging limply from coiled razor wire above the compounds chain link fence. Sam was quick to learn a large violent gang had attempted to storm the compound to get hold of heavy weapons. The attack failed miserably and the attackers were massacred.

Upon unloading from the truck Sam and her companions were greeted by the National Guard Commander, Colonel Debbie Rodgers. The Colonel was middle age with light brown hair. Her eyes were bloodshot and the Colonel had an exhausted look about her – which considering the circumstances was completely understandable. Sam related to the commander of her position with Stargate command and how she had to get back immediately.

The Colonel was most helpful. The compound had dozens of unused Humvee's many armored and with Browning .50 Cal's mounted on them. Sam was pleased when MSG Ritter, as well as "Captain" Gale Norton, agreed to Ed to accompany her. The two young airmen, however, decided to ride with the National Guard troops.

Sam felt it best to not rush out headlong but to plan the trip more thoughtfully and stay back a day or two. The mess hall was fully stocked so Sam and her companions ate and ate until they were about to burst. Sam was no fan of MRE's but stuffed the Humvee and trailer with them. They then loaded plenty of .50 Cal ammo as well. The armory had row after row of stacked M16's. Sam and her companions took eight of them, two with grenade launchers. Water cans, body armor, maps, radios, and extra batteries were added to the cramped Humvee and accompanying trailer. While collecting the weapons MSG Ritter pointed to a large wooden box on the floor. The whole base was rigged for demolition. When it was time depart the National Guard would blow the base behind them.

The base communications center allowed Sam to try and contact her SGC. As expected the signal couldn't get through. Due to the nuclear blasts, the earth's upper atmosphere was playing havoc with radio communications. SGC had the best communications network available but Sam was calling out from a rather low priority National Guard Center so getting through was impossible. Short-range communication was not as affected though. On the second day, they were loaded and ready to depart. Sam had one last task. She brought a perplexed Gale with her and went to see the National Guard commander.

Sam told the Commander about Gale not being a true USAF Captain. Gale did state she was still a member of an Army Reserve unit. Gale then produced a few weathered copies of her assignment orders and military ID card. The Colonel thought for a moment then stood. She stated she would make a battlefield promotion of Sergeant Gale Norton to the rank of Captain in the US Army since the guard was now Federalized. This was unusual but perfectly legal. The Colonel even had a clerk type out a set of orders and an ID card for Gale. Brief salutes were exchanged. Sam heartily thanked the NG

Sam thanked the commander for all her help and wished her well. "Hey you owe me a silver dollar," Sam said to Gale exiting the Colonel's office. It was a tradition that new officers, on their first salute, would present the one he/she saluted with a silver dollar.

At last Sam and her companions were prepared and facing a long and perilous journey. At least they were well-armed and as prepared as possible. It was difficult to even climb inside the cramped Humvee. To build a bit of camaraderie among her companions Sam started singing in a loud voice, "Hit the road jack, you ain't a com'en back no more no more…" Soon the others joined in. The young guards at the base's gate just shook their heads in wonder watching the singing Humvee fade into the distance. "Officers," one muttered under his breath.

General Hammond was pleased to see refugees begin to arrive at Cheyenne Mountain. There was a bit of a problem when one young man tried to smuggle a .9mm pistol through the gate. When challenged he fired point-blank on one of the guards hitting him square in the chest. Luckily the guard was wearing body armor and not injured. The gun-wielding assailant was gunned down where he stood from a short blast by another guard.

General Hammond was in his new topside office situated in a trailer near the gate when one of his officers approached. "General, the gate…you've got to see this. At first, General Hammond was concerned but noticed the officer smiling. There parading through the gate in complete costume was a full circus. The entourage was complete with elephants, lions in cages, and dancing clowns in face paint. They waved theatrically and passed through to the Alpha site. "Not something you see every day, huh General?" The young officer said looking over the colorful parade. "That's true." He added then chuckled to himself when he pictured the reaction of Colonel O'Neill on the other side. This was a pleasant diversion from the usual gate traffic of terrified civilians or convoy after convoy of heavily laden supply trucks destined for a one way trip through the gate.

Meanwhile, Dr. Fenton and his assistants carefully made their way towards Cheyenne Mountain. It was a slow meticulous journey. Any wrong turn could deliver them into the hands of unsavory bandits roaming the countryside. They often passed abandoned cars all riddled with bullets and bodies laying about, even small children. Mr. Jumabo had seen this before, unchecked banditry and brutality. He was well aware of the depths of human depravity and cruelty some of his fellow human beings - be they educated Americans thugs or African warlords. With his wise words of caution, they had managed to avoid some potentially dangerous situations.

The longer they drove the more deadly the situation had become. The military had protected the organized evacuation and guided many millions of refugees to the gates relatively unscathed. Now the military, its mission complete, we're evacuating along with their dependents. Without someone to keep them in check the gangs were growing larger and more brazen. Many millions of people realizing that even if the "Big Bang," as it now was commonly called, did not occur life would be perilous without military or police authority in place. Many tens of millions of panic-stricken refugees were now on the road and prey to the vicious gangs roaming about.

Dr. Fenton as a geologist knew back roads. Their van though was not very rugged so traversing over the barren rock was fraught with danger. Up ahead they spotted a vehicle off to the side of the road. A man in a green uniform of some type was outside it changing a tire. Getting closer Dr. Fenton noticed the familiar logo of the US Forest Service.

Dr. Fenton, despite Mr. Jumabo's and Gloria's protests, decided to stop. "Got a problem?" Dr. Fenton said looking over the situation. The man was in a crisp green US Park Rangers uniform. Inside the truck sat a woman, probably his wife. He had a pistol in his waistband and kept his hand just inches from it. The ranger was leery at first but noticed Dr. Fenton was driving a government van.

Small talk was exchanged. His name was Robert Thornton formally a ranger at Yellowstone. He and his wife were visiting relatives when the blast at Yellowstone occurred. Ranger Thornton knew of a Forest Service lot where various vehicles had been stored. It had been abandoned so he had his pick of vehicles. There was strength in numbers so they decided to travel together. Besides Ranger Thornton noticed Dr. Fenton had an excellent array of maps to help guide them to Cheyenne Mountain.

The winding dusty mountain roads were relatively safe. However, up ahead loomed a wide valley they would have to cross. Smack in the center was a large city. There was no way to avoid it they'd have to somehow pass through. However, on the edge of the city was a small town. They would warily approach it and decide what to do next, besides both vehicles needed fuel badly.

Many miles away Sam and her companions were also racing towards Cheyenne Mountain. With every passing Kilometer, they could see the collapse of a once-great nation. It wasn't a pretty sight. Streets were littered with debris, bodies lay everywhere, a bit like old Dodge City before the rule of law. They were lucky for the sight of their armored Humvee with mounted .50 cal was enough to deter even the most aggressive gangster.

In a desolate stretch of highway, a motorcycle gang tried to run them off the road. They even pushed a flaming car in their path. MSG Ritter, the driver at the time, drove the Humvee through a field completely avoiding the ambush. The bikers tried to follow but Sam riddled their ranks with .50 cal fire. She probably killed a dozen or more of them.

Another time when Sam was driving they passed near a prison. There were hundreds of men in orange jumpsuits milling about catcalling to them. "Hey bitch, give me a ride." One called then spit at her. Several threw rocks. Two of them then stood in her path trying to get her to stop. That was something Sam was determined NOT to do. There were two "thumps" and she continued to drive. MSG Ritter and Gale were fast asleep at the time and didn't hear a thing.

It was getting late so they drove off the road into a secluded area. They had alternated driving, sleeping and standing watch. The fuel situation was once again presenting a problem. Luck had been with them a few times and they found abandoned gas stations. However, the gas stations they'd recently passed had all been torched. There were plenty of abandoned cars to siphon gas from be they old clunkers to expensive Lexus. The Humvee was rugged, though a diesel, it could run on almost anything. Even so, the Humvee was a gas hog and Sam shot many a nervous glance at the steadily falling gas gauge.

Not far back they had a comic moment. While siphoning gas from abandoned cars in a mall parking lot MSG Ritter was eyeing a bright red Porsche Boxster. The keys were still in it. His eyes took in every detail of the gleaming vehicle. Sam noticed him looking the car over. "Go ahead. Take it for a spin around the parking lot." Sam said with a smile. MSG Ritter jumped into the car and beaming said, "I commandeer this vehicle in the name of the US Government. I've always wanted to own one – now I do." He then sped off and drove the car around a bit.

Meanwhile Dr. Fenton and his companions, after looking over the small town with binoculars, decided to approach it. In the open area around the small town were a huge encampment of cars, campers, and recreational vehicles. They found a vacant spot and parked. Soon after they parked Dr. Fenton was informed that a large and violent gang had blocked the road ahead with a barrier. No one dare pass unless they valued their lives. Evacuees were gathering in the area immediately ahead of the roadblock like a cork in a bottle. Dr. Fenton knew time was of the essence. They were but one day's drive from Cheyenne Mountain – so close yet so far. No one had seen any military for some time, no helicopters, jets, nothing. Everything seemed so quiet, like a calm before the storm – or blast.

Sam and her companions had noticed it as well. Few cars were on the road and she'd not seen any military activity at all. No aircraft, nothing. They had a very "alone" feeling like the last passenger off a sinking ship. The deck chairs, the rooms, everything was still there but no people. The journey had taken them longer than anticipated. No one said it aloud but Gale, Sam, and MSG Ritter had regretted not going with the guard unit when they had their chance. By now they were no doubt safe and sound on the other side.

Up ahead a wide valley loomed with a large city situated in the center. That didn't look good. At the edge of the valley on each side of the main highway was a huge encampment of every conceivable type vehicle. As their vehicle approached people began to call out, "The Army's here! The Army's here!" Just the sight of their lone military vehicle meant authority and order – salvation for these desperate people. People climbed out of tents, stood on their cars and waved and cheered wildly.

With a huge crowd following them Sam pulled into an open spot. Sam saw the logo of the US Forest Service on an adjacent SUV, another, a gray van, had a government GSA emblem. Sam and her companions exited the Humvee and waved to the gathering crowd. "Glad to see you," Dr. Fenton said, looking over the disheveled yet stunningly beautiful Major Sam Carter. Sam was also pleasantly surprised and replied to the handsome geologist, "Glad to see you." Dr. Fenton laughed, "Ya, but I said it first."

Both groups mingled and told their stories. "How much time?" Sam said afraid to hear the answer. "Not long, not long at all. A day perhaps. Maybe two." He replied thoughtfully.

Later that evening the ad hoc leader of the encampment and some of his assistants approached Sam and her companions. They sat around a small campfire sipping coffee and deciding on a course of action. Various options were discussed. Nothing came of it until one man casually mentioned seeing a bulldozer in a rock quarry not far away. "Why the hell didn't you mention that before!" Shouted the leader and berating the man for being silent about it. The man, a small thin man with a dirty shirt said in almost a whisper. "Cuz nobody asked."

The bulldozer, a D9 Cat, was found intact and in good running order. Welders were found and they worked all night and into the next morning building an armored cage to protect the driver. By late afternoon the work was complete. Usually, an operation like this would take time to plan but they had no time. With the bulldozer in the lead and Sam following behind in the armored Humvee they would assault the blockade head-on. The Ranger, Robert Thornton a Gulf War vet and well familiar with the Browning .50 Cal. Sam was confident in having him as the gunner. Maybe they'd have enough strength and firepower to break through, maybe not. It was now or never.

The huge bright yellow bulldozer came to life and began to slowly make its way towards the barbarians blocking their path. Next, Sam pulled in behind. Several men were riding atop the bulldozer, armed with their rifles or the extra M16's Sam handed out. Sitting next to her armed with an M16 was the handsome geologist, Dr. Fenton.

Dr. Fenton even got up enough courage and gently kissed Sam on the cheek. He was pleasantly surprised by her reaction when she pulled him to her and planted a passionate French kiss on him. Sam gave him a very sexy smile and looked into his eyes, "Do you know what this means if we make it through this mess?" Sam said. They exchanged knowing smiles then looked ahead towards the noisy D9. The noisy engine of the dozer was soon drowned out when hundreds of vehicles of the evacuees all came to life and began to line up on the road behind them.

General Hammond was conducting a lonely vigil at Cheyenne Mountain. He'd had no evacuees for several days now. His staff consisted of just a bare Skeleton crew to guard the gate. Word had come that the Asgard were shutting down the gates and withdrawing. In general, it had been a success; well over half of the US population and its allies had escaped through the Stargate's Still many millions more were left behind. Most Stargates were only getting a trickle of refugees so the Asgard was beaming the unused gates away. There were a few Asgard ships in earth orbit and ready to beam off any stragglers if they approached where the gates had formerly been. The explosion would be so massive that the Asgard ships would have to back off from earth once the blast was imminent.

General Hammond went below to his quarters and filled a backpack with some personal items. The SGC, on emergency lighting, had an eerie dead silence. It was an odd experience to see and feel the usual busy SGC so still. On his way back he passed Sam's quarters. The general had feared for her safety and wished her well. General Hammond's orders were to keep the gate open as long as possible. An Asgard ship, one of the last ones, hovered in earth orbit, to beam away the Stargate the second General Hammond walked through.

Slowly the massive D9 approached the barrier. There were hundreds of armed gang members hiding behind it. The barrier was an assortment of burned-out city buses and abandoned cars. The men sitting outside the D9 cab were picked off quickly. One managed to crawl inside with the driver and return fire from the safety of the armored cab. Bullets were flying all over and Sam could hear the telltale "ping" as they bounced off her armored Humvee. Ranger Thornton, exposed to fire from the waist up began firing. The heavy "thump, thump," of his .50 cal would have a devastating effect on the lightly armed gangsters. With a loud searing sound, the blockade was breached and pushed aside. Ranger Thornton kept up a steady fire the whole time. Now they were through and headed towards Cheyenne Mountain.

Sam looked in her mirror and saw the people behind them waving flags and cheering. With the thugs were destroyed, however, time would be the next enemy.

General Hammond looked at his watch and told the remaining guards to begin packing their equipment. One young private stopped for a second, "Hear that?" He said. General Hammond listened intently. Yes, it was the familiar sound of a vehicle. The sound became a roar. There, racing down the road was an Army Humvee and following behind a huge column of civilian vehicles. One of the guards began flagging through any of the vehicles that could fit through the gate. They had perhaps just seconds.

General Hammond was shocked to see this convoy but double shocked when the driver of the Humvee turned out to be Sam. He smiled broadly and waved her through shouting, "No time now. Tell me on the other side." Seconds later Sam and her companions were safe at the Alpha site.

The earth shook hard. There were still a hundred or more people left to evacuate. People were now in a panic and running headlong towards the gate. A motorcycle with a young woman on the back was weaving around the scurrying people. The woman passenger was clutching a cage with a much-freighted kitty inside. With a final burst of speed, it passed safely through to the other side. General Hammond, in a firm tone, ordered his men through the Stargate. Finally the last refugees were ushered through, a terrified woman and her small baby. There was another massive jolt that knocked General Hammond to the ground. He stood, gave one last look at the earth he'd known and stepped through the gate. A split second later the gate was beamed away and the Asgard ships retreated.

The earth was then literally ripped apart by a massive blast. All human life was being extinguished by the millions. Red hot lava shot high into the sky and a deadly rain of ash and fire rent the planet. The blast was so massive as to knock it out of orbit and send it careening through space. The earth would now become a desolate asteroid void of all life like one of many billions that dotted the black void of space.


End file.
